


i can be the one you long for

by jj_blues



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bad Flirting, Dork Kon-El | Conner Kent, Drunken Flirting, Drunkenness, Humor, Language, M/M, POV Tim Drake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:33:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25465567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jj_blues/pseuds/jj_blues
Summary: Tim scrunched his face at the message. What the heck was Ives talking about? He scrolled back to read their previous conversation.stop_staying_up_lateCan't u come over?The bartender makes awesome mimosasPlus he's hot ;) and he keeps on chekcing me out when he thinks I'm not lookingJason_Grace_But_SmarterAre you sure you're not just imagining things?stop_staying_up_lateI hate u Sebastian IvesJason_Grace_But_SmarterNevermind ignore what I saidOkay you know what I'm calling Dick because you're obviously drunkAnd wdy mean he's hot???
Relationships: Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Comments: 8
Kudos: 147





	i can be the one you long for

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this the other night when I was drunk. Turned out okay-ish. Decided to post because I want me some Timkon.

Tim gazed at the bartender from over the rim of his mimosa. Really, the guy wasn't bad-looking. He snorted at the thought. Yeah, _right_. The bartender was hot. In fact, Tim was pretty sure he'd been staring at the guy for the past hour. Hours? Hours, probably. 

Hours... 

Tim's eyes widened. "Shit." He set down his drink on the counter to pat his pockets for his phone. "Where did I - "

Oh yeah. Beside his mimosa. He grabbed his phone to look at the time. One message from Ives. Received thirty minutes ago...? 

**Jason_Grace_But_Smarter**  
And wdy mean he's hot??? 

Tim scrunched his face at the message. What the heck was Ives talking about? He scrolled back to read their previous conversation.

**stop_staying_up_late**  
Can't u come over?  
The bartender makes awesome mimosas  
Plus he's hot ;) and he keeps on chekcing me out when he thinks I'm not looking

**Jason_Grace_But_Smarter**  
Are you sure you're not just imagining things?  


**stop_staying_up_late ******  
I hate u Sebastian Ives

****

**Jason_Grace_But_Smarter**  
Nevermind ignore what I said  
Okay you know what I'm calling Dick because you're obviously drunk  
And wdy mean he's hot???

Tim glared at the screen. Knowing his best friend, he probably made good on his promise and Dick was gonna arrive any moment. Why can't Ives just let him be? 

Muttering to himself, he reached up to run his fingers through his hair. Then he stared at his hand in horror. Fuuuuckkkkkk. Wasn't he supposed to not mess up his hair until _after_ the gala? Bruce had spent thirty minutes helping him slick it back to impress the guests. Fuckkkk, Bruce was gonna kill him. 

Well, what's done was done. With a loud sigh, he lifted a hand to his hair to finish the job. After a few minutes of messing it up until it wasn't slicked back anymore, he checked his reflection on his phone. He was so not looking forward to returning to the Manor tonight. Maybe he could just crash at his apartment. Yeah. It'd be an awesome plan. Maybe he could convince Dick to stay over, too. 

"Hey." Tim blinked at the bartender - the Superboy look-alike - standing in front of him. "You still good?" 

He straightened up, depositing his phone in the pocket of his dress pants to shoot the bartender a weak smile. "Uh-huh." 

"Cool. Hairystyle looks great on you, by the way. Not saying the slicked-back one was bad. But this one suits you better." The bartender winked. 

Tim's heart screeched to a halt. Heat rose to his cheeks. Holy... Ives was wrong. He wasn't imagining it. Hot Bartender _had_ been checking him out. 

Nice. Time for Phase Two. Tim's gonna get himself a hot bartender. Ives can suck it. 

Slowly, Tim loosened his tie, gaze trained on Hot Bartender. ~~His inner hoe~~ He inwardly giggled when Hot Bartender's eyes almost popped out of their sockets. 

Deeming the action sufficient enough, Tim cleared his throat, and looked at Hot Bartender through half-lidded lashes, like he'd seen the main characters do in those trashy rom-com movies Jason loved so much. "Hey, has anyone ever told you that you look like Superboy from the Netflix series?" 

Hot Bartender seemed to recover from Tim's mini-show, because he lifted his chin to flash him a dimpled smirk. "Too many to count." 

Tim swallowed. The bartender _really_ looked like Superboy, though. And God, Tim always had a thing for Superboy. Those lips. Those eyes. That smile. 

Whatever. He'll take what he can get. The bartender looked so much hotter than Superboy anyway. Like, ten times more sexy. Those lips. Those eyes. That smile. Those lips. His mouth went dry as he stared at those lips. Yeah, he'll take him over Superboy anyday. 

"Thank you?" 

It took five seconds for Tim to realize he's just said it aloud. The ten times more sexy thing. And everything else that followed, if the bartender's wide (even wider?) grin was anything to go by. 

Fuck, he was drunk. 

Tim cleared his throat. He flashed Mr Hotter-than-Superboy what he hoped wasn't a drunk smile. "You're welcome." 

And Mr-Hotter-than-Superboy - okay, Tim's gonna call him Hot Bartender, because Mr Hotter-than-Superboy's like, a mouthful, and yeah, it might sound better, but it's just _way_ too long - looked even more amused, if possible. He leaned over the counter, biceps straining over his tight shirt. 

Tim almost drooled at the sight. Almost. 

Anyway, Hot Bartender leaned over the counter until they were almost face-to-face. 

Tim held his breath. 

Hot Bartender dimpled. "I appreciate the compliment, Timmy." 

Wait, what? 

"Uh, what?" Tim stared at Hot Bartender, all fantasies of fucking him over the counter gone in an instant. "How d'you know my name?" 

"You come here every night. And you told me your name earlier." 

"But I don't know you!" 

The whine had slipped from his mouth before he could stop it. Damn alcohol. 

"You don't?" Hot Bartender's face creased into the sexiest frown ever. "Okay. Uh, my name's Conner, but you can call me Kon if you wanna. I moved here from Kansas." 

Tim's eyes widened. "Really? You don't sound like you're from Kansas!" 

And Hot Bartender - Conner, sorry, frowned again. "Uh, am I supposed to?" 

"No?" Tim swallowed an embarrassed smile. "Sorry. I didn't mean to offend you." 

"Nah, man, I was just messing with you." Conner dimpled again. Fuck. Tim's gonna die before the end of the night if Conner won't stop dimpling. Death by sexy smiles. Huh. Damian and Jason would love that. 

"So, are you single?" Tim blurted out. Shit. Oh, shit. He didn't mean to ask him. He should've asked if Conner was gay first. Shit. 

But Conner...okay, Conner doesn't look offended. No, he - Tim squinted. If he had to guess Conner's expression, it'd be - amused? Again? 

The bottom dropped from Tim's stomach. 

Christ. He probably already had a girlfriend whom he loved very much, and Tim just asked him if he was _single._ Great. Way to go. He was an idiot for assuming he even had a chance with Hot Bartender in the first place. 

"Tim..." 

Tim raised his head. God, why did Conner have to look so perfect even when apologizing? 

"'S not your fault," he said. "Shouldn't have hoped you were single. I mean, with a face like that, it'd be fucking crazy to assume you were single. Sorry for the language." 

Conner opened his mouth, presumedly to say something, before a blonde in a purple shirt and the same black apron as Conner's appeared out of nowhere to hipcheck him. "Shift's over, Kent. It's my turn." 

Tim squinted at the blonde bartender. Why does she seem familiar? "Have I seen you before?" 

Miss Blondie arched a brow. Then she looked at Conner. Shit, is she Conner's girlfriend? Did she hear Tim ask her boyfriend if he was single? Fuuckkkk - "Tim, you dated me for two years. Unfortunately, we broke up 'cause I was - which you said, and I quote, "just too awesome" for you to handle." 

He stared at her. "You're kidding." 

"Nope." Miss Blondie jerked her head towards Conner. "Ask him. He was there." 

His jaw dropped. No way. No fucking way she was telling the truth. 

He turned to Conner, who had already untied his apron, and seemed too focused on hiking his sleeves higher to his elbows. 

God _damn._

No. Tim cleared his throat. This wasn't the time for distractions. "Uh, Kon?" 

Conner stopped adjusting the sleeves of his shirt. "Yeah?" 

Tim's mouth went dry at the unintentional (or was it?) flex of those forearms. "Um." 

He forgot the question. 

Conner tilted his head to the side. Confusion flickered across his blue eyes. "What?" 

Tim steeled himself. He had to get a grip. So what is if Conner's the Superboy of his dreams? He had an important question to ask, dammit. 

"Did I," he began, jerking his head towards Miss Blondie, "break up with her 'cause she was too awesome for me to handle?" 

"Yeah." 

Tim blinked. "Oh." 

He didn't know if Conner was lying, but Conner didn't seem the type to lie. In fact, he seemed the type of person who was simultaneously every girl's boy-next-door dream guy. Hot. Sexy. Looked like Superboy. A goody-two shoes. 

In other words, the exact opposite of Tim. Which is, okay, ouch. The realization hurt. And what the fuck was Conner even doing talking to him when he could have, like, anyone? He looked like _Superboy_ , for fuck's sake. 

"Dude, are you okay?" Conner's deep voice snapped him from his thoughts. "You were staring off into space." 

Tim straightened up in his seat. He tried to ignore the warmth on his face. He wasn't drunk, dammit. "I was just...looking at something. Yeah." 

Miss Blondie laughed. "Don't lie, Timmy. You were obviously looking at him." She jabbed a thumb at Conner. 

It took a split-second for Tim to process her words. "Go away, whatever your name is. Nobody asked for your opinion." 

He scowled at her, but then Conner was chuckling, and God, he'd never heard a more beautiful sound in his life. 

"Stop embarrassing our customers, Steph." 

"Your customer," she shot back. 

Conner's costumer. Wow. Tim liked the sound of that. And Miss Blondie's name was Steph. Cool. She looked like a Steph if he stared hard enough. 

"Now you've done it." Miss Blondie - Steph - sounded accusing. "You broke him." 

Tim looked between them. "What are you talking about?" 

"Just take him home, Kon. He's drunk off his ass already." 

Tim's brain might've short-circuited at the first part of Steph's sentences. Conner knew where he lived? 

"Fine." 

Suddenly, strong arms were helping him stand up. The world spun. He stumbled, then found himself pressed against a warm body. Tim groaned, and raised his head to glare at whoever thought it was a good idea to haul him out of his seat when he wasn't even finished with his drink yet, but the words died on his tongue. He stared at Conner, dazed, and maybe just a lil' bit confused. 

Christ, he looked even hotter up close. 

"You know, B's gonna kill you if he finds out you got him drunk on mimosas," Tim vaguely heard Steph say. Huh. She knew B, too? 

"Yeah, _if_ he finds out," Conner said. 

Tim's eyes widened. Oh shit. Bruce. Bruce would go ballsy - ballista - balls - _angry_ if he knew some stranger was touching him like this. Doesn't matter if the stranger was hot and looked like Superboy. Bruce wouldn't care. No, wait. it doesn't matter because Tim wasn't in charge of his life and Bruce could shove it. Yeah. "I'm not gonna let him." 

"Hm?" 

He tightened his arms around Conner's waist. "I'm not gonna let Bruce find out you got me drunk on mimosas. We can hide in my apartment. He won't look for us there." 

Conner arched a brow. "You sure?" 

He nodded. "Yep." 

"Okay, babe." And was it just him, or was Conner smiling? "We'll hide out in our apartment."


End file.
